Leanne Banks - Royals - A Dutiful Princess

‘Tyr!’

‘Britt.’ He swung round just in time for his beautiful sister to throw herself into his arms. Britt’s face was ecstatic, but she was full of questions. Flight good? Journey good?

‘You look great, Tyr.’

His mouth quirked. ‘Liar.’

His eldest sister took a step back to take a proper look at him. ‘Okay, so your clothes look great.’

‘Better,’ he said dryly as they shared a laugh. ‘I stopped off in Milan, knowing if I was coming to a party hosted by my glamorous sisters, I had better look the part.’

Britt’s face grew concerned. ‘You know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Tyr.’

‘But I want to be here. I wanted to come home and see you.’

‘So, you’re ready to face the music?’ Britt enquired, glancing across the road to the town’s smartest hotel, where she had arranged a welcome home party for him.

‘I am if you are.’

‘I only wish we had longer to talk, but you’ve never been one to ease yourself into a situation by degrees, have you, Tyr?’

‘Full immersion,’ he confirmed, determined to keep the tone upbeat. ‘It’s the only way I know.’

Britt gave a disbelieving hum. ‘If you say so.’

‘I do say so.’ He gestured towards the hotel, where they could see cars arriving. ‘And thank you for going to all this trouble for me.’

She laughed. ‘It’s nice to have the chance. And if I can’t welcome the town’s hero home...’

‘Just welcome your brother home. That’s all I want.’

‘I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Tyr—and almost had to,’ Britt reminded him wryly.

‘Those emails kept coming,’ he agreed.

‘And you kept ignoring them.’

‘But I saved you a trip in the end,’ he pointed out.

‘Tyr, you never change.’ Britt was laughing but her eyes were sad behind the fixed smile because they both knew that was a lie. He’d changed a whole lot.

‘This quiet time in my office has been good for you, though, hasn’t it, Tyr?’

‘This quiet time has been perfect. Thank you, Britt.’

Aside from shopping for some essentials, which meant ditching the desert boots and safari shirts in favour of city clothes, Tyr hadn’t suffered any human contact since leaving the sandbox. After the silence of the desert even street noise was deafening. But when could Britt not face anything that came her way? he reflected as he gazed into the eyes of a most admirable woman. Even if she hadn’t been his sister, he would have placed Britt on a pedestal a mile high.

‘Well, you’ve had your moment,’ she told him briskly. ‘I want a few words alone with you, and then we’ll go.’

He frowned. ‘This sounds serious.’

‘There’s a lot to tell you, Tyr. You’ve been away for such a long time. Leila’s had twins—’

‘This I know—you already told me.’

‘I told you when they were born,’ Britt agreed. ‘They’re practically school age now, yet you still haven’t seen them.’

He acknowledged this with a regretful dip of his head.

‘And Leila’s pregnant again—’

‘What?’ This was news to him. ‘Raffa doesn’t waste any time.’

‘Stop with the dinosaur spiel. Those two adore each other. They want a football team, according to Leila. And if you will go off radar the world isn’t going to stand still until you decide to come back.’

Where he’d been there was no communication with the outside world—not until he set that communication up and moved on, leaving others to go about the business of contacting loved ones. For a long time he’d been too beat up inside to even think about inflicting himself on his sisters.

‘You’re not going to tell me where you were, are you, Tyr?’

‘Need-to-know basis only.’ He made light of it and shrugged. His work was important to him. It was the only way he knew to make reparation. He didn’t want to talk about that work to anyone, not even to Britt. He didn’t want praise for putting right the wrong he’d done. He just wanted to get on with the job.

Britt shook her head at him. ‘Well, I give up. But just wait until you see Leila. She looks—’

‘Huge?’ he suggested, ducking as Britt aimed a swipe at him.

And just like that they were back to the happy days, the carefree days. ‘So, what else is going on I should know about?’

‘Jazz is here.’

Electricity coursed through him. ‘Jazz. I haven’t seen Jazz for years.’ Just the mention of Sharif’s younger sister’s name took him back to wild school holidays, when he could ride himself into the ground and swim until his arms ached, and think of nothing more but the next harmless adventure with his two friends from Kareshi. But beneath Britt’s matter-of-fact tone, he sensed something more. ‘So?’ He shrugged. ‘What’s happening with Jazz?’ He was fairly confident Sharif would have told him if anything serious had happened to his Jazz—Princess Jasmina of Kareshi, as Jazz was better known to the world. ‘Jazz is okay, isn’t she?’

‘Of course she is.’

‘But?’ He played it down, but his heart had stopped at the thought of harm coming to Jazz. They’d known each other since Sharif had first invited Tyr to spend his school holidays in Kareshi, where Jazz teased him unmercifully for his lack of desert lore. He’d shrugged the irritating kid sister off, but surprised himself by always being pleased to see her. A type of camaraderie had grown between them, and the thought of Jazz sick, or injured— His stomach churned. He’d seen too much of that.

‘But nothing, Tyr,’ Britt insisted. ‘I’d tell you if there was anything wrong.’

He searched Britt’s eyes, knowing that wasn’t the whole story.

‘She’s coming tonight, Tyr.’

‘Great.’ It would be good to see Jazz, though Sharif’s sister could see through everyone, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

‘She’s changed, Tyr,’ Britt said quietly.

He looked up.

‘Like the rest of us, Tyr, Jazz has grown up.’

What was his sister trying to tell him? He shrugged, picturing Jazz with braces and pigtails. How much could one person change? He glanced at his reflection in the window, where he got his answer to that.

‘What’s wrong, Tyr?’

He slanted a smile. ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.’

‘We’ve all changed,’ Britt said, reading him easily, ‘but at least you’re smiling now. Thinking of Jazz?’

He hummed and shrugged Britt’s question off, but he was thinking about Jazz, who, all those years back, had used to refer to him as the guy from the frozen north with the funny name. Sharif, Jazz and he had been an oddball team. Jazz started out the most unwanted member of that team, but she was also the most determined, and could ride him and Sharif into the ground. And she knew the shifting patterns of the desert like the back of her hand. There had been no getting away from Jazz Kareshi, so in the end they’d given up.

‘Don’t look so worried, Britt. I can handle Jazz,’ he said with confidence.

‘Just don’t tease her, Tyr.’

‘Don’t tease Jazz?’ He frowned. Jazz had always been the butt of their humour, and Jazz had always given back as good as she got.

‘Jazz has only agreed to come tonight because this is such a big family occasion. And I’m here to chaperone her,’ Britt added with a meaningful look. ‘Me and Sharif, that is.’

He frowned. ‘This is all sounding terribly formal and not a bit like Jazz.’

‘Like I said, Tyr, Jazz is all grown up, and unmarried sisters of the ruling sheikh in Kareshi don’t share our freedoms.’

‘Is Sharif penning her in?’

‘Don’t be silly. You know Sharif is a big advocate for progress. This is Jazz’s decision, and we have to respect her for her beliefs. It shows a quiet strength and lots of courage, in my opinion. Jazz has stood by Sharif’s side throughout as he’s coaxed Kareshi into the twenty-first century, and now she doesn’t want to do anything to rock the boat, let alone give the traditionalists in Kareshi an excuse to criticise Sharif for implementing progress too quickly.’